


What You Mean To Me

by killuzldyck



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Teen Idol AU, idol Oikawa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killuzldyck/pseuds/killuzldyck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi Hajime ventures into the Suburban Tokyo to look after his injured grandma. A few things, that he most definitely did not expect, happen. </p>
<p>1.	His two best friends follow him to his grandma’s house, where they proceed to stay (he can’t kick them out, they charmed his grandma)<br/>2.	His two best friends force him to go to a private concert hosted by some teen idol (he can’t refuse, they paid a lot of money to get in)<br/>3.	His two best friends leave him to go meet the teen idol and he leaves (which proved to be a big mistake)</p>
<p>If Iwaizumi could, he probably would have asked his mother to somehow change her work dates so she could go look after his grandmother, because he, most definitely, did not want to deal with the shit that happened after point 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank intra-fiducia who is my beta for the story! 
> 
> This is my submission for HQBB 2016, which of course has art and I will include the link to it, in the correct chapter (chapter 4). Sta tuned until then!

“ _Hey, Hey, Hey!!!_ ” A loud voice echoed from the speakers, followed by a cheery laugh. “ _Ladies and the few gentlemen, I present you, Oikawa Tooru!_ _”_ the voice announced cheerfully, followed by the unruly screams of many, _many_ fangirls (and a few fanboys) filling the concert arena.

 

The bright lights flickered on and off, briefly illuminating the delighted expressions of his fans in vibrant colours before they were completely shut off and a single light fell onto the figure that was slowly walking to the centre of the stage. Oikawa moved comfortably towards the microphone, his hair bouncing lightly with every step. An easy, charming, smile rested on his young face as he waved at the audience, earning himself an ear-shattering scream.

 

He waited for the noise to die down, hand curling around the microphone. Music started filling the hall and he parted his lips, allowing the notes to drag him into the song, his mouth forming words with practised ease.

 

His eyes flickered across the impressive number of people in the audience, taking in the enchanted faces of his young, mostly female, fan base.

 

In that moment, he was in his element.

* * *

“Hajime!” He could barely hear his mother’s soft voice ringing through the loud rock music so he slowly turned it down until it was just a pleasant whisper in the background. “Could you come downstairs for a moment please?”

 

“Sure!” he replied loudly, wiping the sweat forming at his brows with the hem of his white, sleeveless T-shirt. The heat that filtered through the open window made beads of sweat roll down his neck and forehead, the breeze from the fan not helping to alleviate the discomfort of his tacky skin.

 

He slowly plodded out of his bedroom and took two stairs at a time as he descended the old wooden stairs. They creaked dangerously under his weight but he paid them no mind. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he rounded the corner and walked into the kitchen where his mother was turning off the water in the sink. “What’s up?”

 

“Hey,” she greeted quietly. “Take a seat please.”

 

He complied, pulling out a chair and heavily sinking down on it, curiously watching his mother wipe her hands on a tea towel. She was a small, fair-skinned woman with light brown hair pulled into a bun: the complete opposite of him and his sun-kissed skin from the many days spent basking in the sunlight. “I just heard from your grandmother that she collapsed recently…” she started, carefully folding the teal towel and hanging it on the handle of the oven. 

 

He immediately straightened his back, leaning forward, eyebrows creased in worry. “Is she okay?”

 

“Um, she fractured her hip and had to under-go a surgery.” His mother bit her lip and he slouched down, eyes wide as saucers. Hajime silently watched her sit down across from him and allowed himself to relax slightly when he saw her calm expression. “Her doctor said she needs to stay in the hospital for a few days and will require in-home rehabilitation.” She took a deep breath. “This means someone has to go to Tokyo.”

 

“And you want _me_ to go, right?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in question, even though he already knew the answer.

 

“I can only take a week off and that’s at the beginning of August,” she supplied, a guilty look crossing her features. “I’m really sorry, Hajime. Your father also can’t make it until end of July. You’ll have to miss out on practice so I really didn’t want to ask you but…” She trailed off, casting her gaze to her lap.

 

“I don’t mind,” he said, smiling softly. “She shouldn’t be left alone in her condition and it’s not like something terrible will happen if I miss some practice, _besides_ I’m sure the coach won’t complain.” He shrugged. “It’s not like our team is exceptionally strong.”

 

“Oh, Hajime,” she sighed, lacing her fingers together on the table and scrunching her eyebrows in thought. “Don’t be saying that.”

 

“It’s true, though. We’re already out of the inter-high, so we only have spring left.” He shrugged again, expression calm as he continued to ignore her pointed look. “When would I be leaving? I should inform the coach as soon as possible about the dates.”

 

“Preferably within the next few days. Your grandmother will stay in the hospital for a while longer, but the plan is to discharge her by Thursday.” She mused, pursing her lips. “Sorry to say, but you’ll be missing out on the last days of school this term. Would that bother you?”

 

He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “No, it’s fine. My grades are up to a good standard so the teachers shouldn’t have a problem.” _I’m barely passing them all,_ he cringed inwardly, but he didn’t want her to give him her infamous scowl if she found out he was bad at studying for exams. “Just let ‘em know,” he continued. “I’ll try to find the coach tomorrow and if not then during practice on Tuesday.”

 

“Thank you, Hajime,” his mother said sincerely, moving to stand up. “I’m making Agedashi Tofu; want some later?” she asked, smiling gently.

 

He grinned. “Of course I do.” He then stood up, deciding that the best course of action was probably to start packing for his two-or-more week venture into the suburban Tokyo. “I’ll start packing and if possible get the first train on either Tuesday or Wednesday. Though that depends on when I can speak to coach.”

 

“That’d be really helpful.” His mother nodded, smiling and he reciprocated the gesture before heading back upstairs, letting the door fall shut behind him.

 

He allowed himself to turn the volume of the music up, just slightly louder than it was but not quite enough to drown out the noises filtering in from the outside. He then dug his duffel bag (which he used when he was away from home for training camps that usually lasted a week) out of his wardrobe and dumped it in the middle of his neatly made bed.

* * *

“You’re going to Tokyo?” Hanamaki asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s quite the journey.”

 

“Yeah, but someone needs to stay with grandma and summer holidays are starting next week.” Iwaizumi shrugged, packing up his lunch box.

 

“When are you going?” Matsukawa piped in, sipping on an orange juice from a carton.

 

“I was going to speak to coach today if I can find him, and hopefully leave tomorrow. If not, he’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” he said, shoving his box into his bag. “He should be in the office.”

 

“Man, that’s so cool.” Matsukawa mused. “You should ask him for a favour, Takahiro.”

 

“What favour?” Iwaizumi asked, quirking an eyebrow and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He and Hanamaki migrated to Matsukawa’s class for lunch, as they rotated every week. This week happened to be in Class 1.

 

“Oh, my little sis is a big fan of Oikawa Tooru and wanted an autograph.” Hanamaki grinned. “And since you’ll be in Tokyo you could check out a few of his favourite hang-outs to see if you can find him.”

 

“I won’t be in central Tokyo, you guys.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m getting the train there, but then I’m heading straight to suburban areas where I’ll stay the whole time.”

 

“So, why are you going there, again?” Hanamaki asked, leaning back in his seat and packing up his own lunch.

 

“My grandma injured herself and had to have an operation, and now someone has to stay with her.” He shoved the chair back to the desk it belonged to and started turning around to head out. “And my parents can’t do it for the time being, so I have to do it. See you later.” He waved his hand, not waiting for his friends’ reply as he headed out to physical education office.

 

The walk there was brisk and he saw some students practising in one of the gymnasiums, throwing balls into the hoops and whooping loudly when they succeeded. The office was situated at the end of the corridor that was sandwiched between the two other gymnasiums.

 

He sharply knocked against the door and waited for a loud “come in” before opening it and stepping in. The Physical education teachers lounged around their desks, some talking amongst themselves. Irihata was sitting, laid-back, talking to the younger volleyball coach, Mizoguchi.

 

“Coach, can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked, and waited as Irihata stopped chuckling about something the other said.

 

“Sure thing, Iwaizumi,” Irihatasaid, voice light and airy. He was clearly in a good mood.

 

“I won’t be able to attend the practice for some time as I have to go to Tokyo to look after my grandma,” Iwaizumi supplied quickly, deciding to keep things short. He only had so much time before lessons resumed and he didn’t want his teacher to give him a lecture on punctuality in front of the whole class.

 

“Oh? I hope she feels better and if you can, try to do some individual practice when you’re there.” Irihata smiled, relaxed. “I do hope you’ll be back for the away-camp mid-August. The team needs to have their Captain, after all.”

 

“Of course.” Iwaizumi smiled. “And thank you.” He bowed before making his exit and walking quickly to his class. He felt like those two weeks away were going to drag on.

* * *

“So, you’re going tomorrow morning?” Hanamaki asked, as they headed to the convenience store around the corner from their school.

“Yeah, I spoke to coach and he’s fine with it as long as I’m back in time for the camp.”

“Oh? That’s generous. He’s not giving you shit despite the fact that you’re the team Captain.” Matsukawa seemed impressed.

“Yeah, but my role is just to keep everyone in order, basically. You two can do that while I’m gone.” He grinned. “I trust that you won’t corrupt our underclassmen, especially Kindaichi and Kunimi.”

“We’ll do our best,” they sang in unison, mischievously grinning as their trio entered the store, headed to the snack section.

“Oikawa!” The brown-haired teen jumped when he heard a loud bang down the hallway, followed by hurried footsteps. His two best friends, without a doubt, had let themselves in. “Guess what I’ve done!” An excited voice rang across the apartment and Oikawa could already imagine the expression his friend was making before he made himself known.

 

He sighed, pausing the documentary on crop circles he was watching as background noise on his laptop. He then sat up, anticipating his friend’s loud arrival with a magazine in his lap, featuring his most recent interview. He stared at the closed-door, tapping a finger against his knee.

 

“You mean what _we’ve_ done, Bo.” A deeper, voice interjected as the footsteps sounded, drawing closer to the room. “If not for me, we wouldn’t have gotten it done in the first place.”

 

The door swung open, to reveal his two best friends, one smirking, and the other grinning from ear to ear. Oikawa blinked at them, knowing that those smiles didn’t exactly mean good news.

 

“Did you perhaps fix that awful hair-dye, Kou-chan?” Oikawa drawled, eyes his friend suspiciously. He had white-grey hair with black streaks that was styled up in spikes, resembling a great horned owl. Bokuto squawked, eyes bulging in surprise.

 

“WHAT? It’s not _awful_!” Bokuto argued, crossing his arms across his chest and turning his head to the side. “It’s freaking _awesome!!_ ”

 

“While it might be better than Kenma’s, I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s awesome…” He trailed off when he felt a burning look drilled into his head by his other friend. “But ignoring the topic of awful hair-dyes, what have you done?”

 

Bokuto’s annoyance was quickly replaced with the excitement from before and he opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Kuroo beat him to it. “We booked you a music venue for your birthday.” Bokuto squawked again, clearly shocked at being betrayed like that.

 

“Oh, and why would you do that, Tetsu- _chan?_ ” Oikawa asked, leaning forward with thinly-veiled curiosity.

 

“It’s not for your benefit, but rather, for your fans, duh.” Kuroo replied, collapsing into the green bean bag in the corner of the room. “With Kenma’s help we set up sales on your blog, with a few VIP that allow access backstage to meet you. Not many of those and they sold out in _seconds!_ ”

 

“Tetsu-cha~n,”Oikawa whined, dragging out the _a_. “You can’t just book people for something like this on their birthday. What if I had plans? And how do you even have access to my blog? I thought my manager changed it so you couldn’t access it anymore!” He pouted, glancing at the screen of his laptop that faded into an alien screensaver.

 

“I know your schedule, bro.” Bokuto collapsed on the bed next to Oikawa, snatching the magazine that was resting in his lap. “I know you’re free and even if you weren’t, you’d go with us anyway.” He grinned, flicking through the pages.

 

“Kenma helped us figure out your new password,” Kuroo added, shrugging.

 

“You guys are insufferable,” he huffed out.

 

“But you love us anyway.” Kuroo winked and blew him a mocking kiss.

 

“Gross. Don’t do that.” Oikawa cringed, pretending to swat the kiss away. “I don’t want to get infected with whatever you have that gives you that rooster head.”

 

“Hey, that’s –“

 

“Kenma said it’s because of the way he sleeps,” Bokuto said, lying on his back and holding the magazine away from his face, while reading a story one reader had submitted. “I’ve never seen it, but apparently he sleeps on his stomach and presses the pillow to either side of his head.” He threw the magazine back at Oikawa, who huffed, annoyed, and proceeded to demonstrate how Kuroo obtained his rooster head.

 

“How can you even breathe when you sleep like that?” Oikawa, asked, slightly mortified. “I have known you for a good few years but that’s the first I’m hearing of this. You should have definitely suffocated by now.” His eyes widened. “Maybe you’re an alien. A bad and mundane one, but an alien nonetheless.”

 

“What do you mean I’m mundane?” Kuroo scoffed, blowing at the portion of his hair that fell over his eye. “And you can’t know for sure how I sleep. Kenma is out before me and is still asleep when I wake up.” He frowned, staring at Bokuto. “What about you, Bo? I’ve never seen you with your hair down in _years._ There’s not even photographic evidence of it!”

 

“Akaashi and my parents have seen me with my hair down.”

 

“You guys are something else.” Oikawa rolled his eyes, shoving Bokuto aside to lean against the headboard of the bed. He rolled up the magazine and shoved it into one of the slightly ajar drawers of his nightstand. “You two can continue this outside, or stay here and be quiet, I wanna watch the rest of the documentary.”

 

“You were reading your interview in the magazine, weren’t you?” Kuroo asked, as he stood up and walked over, watching silently as Oikawa swept his finger across the mousepad and typed in his password.

 

“Mhmm,” he muttered, nodding. “Wanted to make sure they didn’t twist my words, as can be done with written interviews.”

 

“I’m guessing it was fine, since you’re not throwing a fit.” he settled down on Oikawa’s right, with Bokuto on Oikawa’s left. Bokuto stared at them for a moment but neither of them said anything.

 

Then, Oikawa pressed the play button and they fell into comfortable silence, with him sandwiched between his two best friends.

* * *

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

When Iwaizumi stepped off the train, he vaguely knew where to go. He had never ventured out into the capital of Japan on trains, always getting a ride with his parents when they visited his grandmother for Christmas holidays. His mother provided him with simple written instructions on where the bus stop was and what stop to get off at. Nothing that his phone couldn’t tell him.

 

**9:51**

**> > I have arrived.**

**> > Will let you know when I get there**

His mother told him his grandma would still be hospitalized and that he should make himself at home before picking her up on Thursday morning. The hefty allowance his parents gave him before he left would ensure that he could stock up the fridge for a good two weeks. He headed to the exit of the station at a slow pace, trying not to bump into the large crowd of people briskly walking in both directions. Tokyo station was definitely more cramped than Sendai had been earlier that morning.

 

The bus stop was a lot closer than he expected and he had to wait a total of 13 minutes before his bus arrived and he boarded it. It was a quick 40 minute drive into the area where his grandmother lived, with some minor traffic delaying him slightly. When he got off, he politely thanked the driver and referred to his phone to find out where to go. As he was walking down the road, houses on one side and a canal on the other, his phone vibrated.

 

 **Mum** **, 10:50**

**> > _THAT’S GREAT_**

**_> > REMEMBER THAT ABENO-SAN HAS THE SPARE KEY_ **

****

**10:51**

**> > You have your caps locks on again. **

**> > And I know**

**> > I’m nearly there **

**> > Call you when I get to the hospital**

He reached his destination a couple minutes later, taking in the sight of the 1 story, 2 bedroom house his grandmother lived in. The name tag of ‘Iwaizumi’ was hanging just above the house number. He placed his duffel bag on the door step and looked at the houses on either side, checking their numbers to make sure he went to the correct one. Before he could even take a step forward, an older lady stepped onto her porch and smiled in his direction.

“Hajime-chan, you’ve grown since Christmas!” she remarked, cheerfully.

"Abeno-san, hello.” He bowed in respect, knowing that Abeno-san was a good friend of Iwaizumi Miyako.

“Lift your head, dear. There is no need for such formalities. I’ve known you since you were a babe,” she chuckled, motioning for him to come forward. “I know Miyako is waiting for you, so I won’t be keeping you long. But, my, how you’ve grown! It’s a wonder!”

Standing directly in front of Abeno-san made Iwaizumi think of something fragile. She was a small woman, much smaller than his mother; hunched over with grey hair pulled into a tight bun. Her grey eyes twinkled playfully as she extended her hand.

Iwaizumi nodded curtly and took the key she offered to him.

“Miyako told me you’ll be staying here by yourself until she gets dismissed from the hospital, so feel free to join me and my husband for dinner tonight,” she said, and started heading back inside her house. “Now excuse me, but I have some gardening to do!”

Iwaizumi stared after Abeno-san slightly baffled, words failing to escape him as she disappeared into her house. He shook his head and headed inside the Iwaizumi household, slipping off his shoes in the genkan.

He padded to the bedroom he would be staying in, which belonged to his father in his youth. It still had some old posters and a few books on the shelves, but it was mostly emptied out over the years. It was small and he usually had to share it with his parents. Having it to himself would be a nice change.

“She asked me to bring her some stuff…” he mumbled to himself as he started searching the house in search of the requested items.

***

Two days breezed by quickly. He spent a good portion of his time at the hospital, learning how he could help with his grandmother’s rehabilitation while she was at home. When he wasn’t there, he was in his grandmother’s backyard doing individual practice for volleyball. The vast space of her garden made it easy and he managed to make himself a pseudo-net by tying a string between the laundry pole and a tree. Between his trips to the hospital and the backyard (and occasionally to Abeno-san’s house for dinner), he kept busy messaging Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

Occasionally he messaged Kindaichi and Kunimi to find out if the other third years were keeping them in line. Kindaichi was too honest and Iwaizumi knew he wouldn’t lie to him, and Kunimi was just blunt.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa mostly spammed him with stupid memes and team pictures taken during their practice. In one of them, Watari gets hit in the back of his head with the ball and spits out his drink, making Iwaizumi burst out laughing.

**Hanamaki, 8:31**

**> > _(_** ** _͡_** ** _°_** **_͜ʖ_** **_͡_** ** _°)_**

**8:35**

**> > wtff is this supposed to be**

**> > Makki, oi**

**8:36**

**> > _(_** ** _͡_** ** _°_** **_͜ʖ_** **_͡_** ** _°)_**

 **> > _(_** ** _͡_** ** _°_** **_͜ʖ_** **_͡_** ** _°)_**

 **> > _(_** ** _͡_** ** _°_** **_͜ʖ_** **_͡_** ** _°)_**

 **> > _(_** ** _͡_** ** _°_** **_͜ʖ_** **_͡_** ** _°)_**

**8:37**

**> > I’m blocking you**

***

Iwaizumi Miyako was, in many ways, similar to his father: stubborn, somewhat aloof, and generally dismissive of medical advice . It just so happened that this doctor was a young one and an easy target at that.

“The youth of today really have no idea what they’re talking about!” she muttered angrily under her breath as they were led outside by the doctor with Iwaizumi pushing the wheelchair. “You think us elders are all fragile and will break over smallest things! Which is complete bull-“

“Grandma!” Iwaizumi heaved out a sigh. “You really should listen to the doctor, for once.”

“Why would you take his side, Hajime?” She bristled, turning her head to glare at him. “You young man, need to respect your elders more! You should be at school and not taking care of me! I can do it myself!”

“Gran, dad would not agree with you on this.” He sighed, flashing an apologetic smile at the young doctor.

“Kenji shares the same opinion about doctors as me!” she insisted, crossing her arms.

“Actually, dad wanted to come here himself, but work got in the way. He’s coming at the beginning of August,” Iwaizumi said, grinning sheepishly at her appalled look.

“That stupid son of mine. He’d better not be coming here!” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest. “I will personally see that he receives a harsh scolding if he shows up!”

Iwaizumi chuckled, muffling the sound with the back of his hand. The doctor looked slightly concerned, but didn’t voice his opinion as they approached the exit of the building. “Iwaizumi-san, please make sure not to turn away the therapists that will come twice a week to work with you. The longer you refuse our help, the longer your recovery will take,” he warned, giving her a stern look.

“Yes, of course,” she muttered. “Come on, Hajime. I promised Kaori that we’d do some Sudoku when I get back.” She urged him forward and with a quick goodbye and thanks to the doctor, they left.

***

“Kou-chan, Tetsu-chan.” Oikawa grinned in a greeting, letting his friends into his apartment. For once, he wasn’t startled by their intrusion. “I think you should be well aware of the fact that I need to alter our plans for my birthday!”

“Eh? But you have to come with us! It’s _your_ event!” Bokuto exclaimed, crossing his arms across his chest and frowning at Oikawa.

“I never said anything about ditching you, though,” Oikawa mumbled, and watched as Bokuto started rummaging through his cupboards searching for snacks. He sighed and sat in one of the high stools by the kitchen island, resting his elbows on the marble surface. “I just need to change the schedule.”

“What’s up?” Kuroo asked, slipping into the chair next to him. Bokuto stood across from them, munching away on some chocolate muffins.

“My mum just called me to say that we’re having dinner at 9pm on my birthday,” Oikawa started, watching as his friends nodded for him to continue. “It’s close by, so I can still make the concert, but I’ll have to be out of there _real_ quick to get to the venue in time. My sister, her husband and Takeru are coming all the way here from Sapporo for it, so it’s only natural I’d go!”

“Well, considering that the tickets are all sold out and the audience expects a 2 hour concert, you need to make up for it, somehow,” Kuroo muttered thoughtfully.

“I can do some gigs myself,” Bokuto suggested. “But since it’s about you, you need to do something special for them.”

“How about signing posters and giving them to people as they come in?” Kuroo suggested, grinning. “There were only about 300 tickets, so you probably won’t need more than that. Especially since some underage kids will be with parents.”

“Tetsu-chan, do you want my hand to fall off?” Oikawa gasped, slightly mortified.

“You’ve signed so much more in one go,” Bokuto chimed in, chewing on his muffin.

“I’m not sure I have,” Oikawa said, shrugging. “But I guess I owe them that much. Make sure to print out a good picture! And speak to my manager about the money; he’ll probably go with you.”

“Okay, I’ll e-mail him later on. You still have the whole weekend ahead of you!” Kuroo encouraged, slapping him on the back gently.

“I know, but I still have to pick out clothes that will be suitable for the concert and the dinner afterwards, not to mention I have a photoshoot tomorrow morning, which is a huge deal for me, okay?” Oikawa said, standing up and heading to grab a bottle of water.

“Is it the one they’ll be pasting on that major billboard in central?” Bokuto asked, stuffing the remains of the muffin in his mouth. “That’s awesome, dude!”

“Thanks, Kou-chan.” Oikawa smiled warmly, leaning back against the counter.

“Hold up,” Kuroo exclaimed. “You said your nephew is coming, right? That means you’ll be spending a lot of time baby-sitting him!” He chuckled. “That kid loves you.”

“Yeah, but he likes you two as well, so don’t think you can get out of it!” Oikawa grinned, slamming the bottle down. “I proclaim you two official Takeru baby-sitters for the next week!”

“You can’t do that,” Kuroo deadpanned. “You don’t pay us!”

“I basically feed you, though, so it’s close enough.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out and headed towards his bedroom. “Now go sort out the posters! Or you’ll have less time for figuring something out, Mr. Brains!”

“Shut up!” Kuroo hollered after him, grinning nonetheless.

Bokuto stared at Kuroo owlishly, then blinked and gestured to the muffins. “Want one?”

Kuroo slapped a hand across his forehead, but took the food and ate it with a frown. There was still a lot of work to do.

How did he sign up for all this shit?

***

It was Friday morning. Iwaizumi woke up refreshed and ready for a new day. There was a lot of clattering coming from the kitchen, which he assumed was Abeno-san. After his grandmother had been discharged from the hospital, she had been spending most of her time at the Iwaiuzmi household, gossiping about what his grandmother had missed while she was bed-ridden.

He took a quick shower and got dressed before heading down the small hallway to the kitchen. The door was wide open and a delicious scent wafted towards him, drawing him inside.

As predicted, Abeno-san was shuffling around the kitchen making pancakes, while her husband and Iwaizumi’s grandma were engaged in an intense round of shogi. Both were concentrating very hard on their opponent’s move, not even realizing he had stepped into the kitchen.

“Morning,” he said loudly to announce himself.

“Oh, Morning!” Abeno-san greeted cheerfully.

“Oh, Hajime,” his grandmother deadpanned, staring blankly at him. “It’s not even 9; why are you up so early? You’re basically on holiday already! Go sleep some more, child!”

“I’m not tired,” he said, and meant it. The nostalgic feeling of being in this old house made him sleep very little at night, as he was too busy reminiscing about many of the times he spent here as a child. He was full of energy the next morning regardless of that. “I thought I could pull out the weeds growing in your garden.”

“I can help with that,” Abeno-san grinned. “But first you need to eat breakfast. We don’t want you passing out and ending up in the hospital like your foolish old baba!”

“Hey, now!” Miyako warned, raising a spatula that was laying on the table. “Don’t distract me. I’m gonna beat that geezer in Shogi, once and for all.”

“Of course, dear,” Abeno-san chuckled, flipping a pancake. “Breakfast served.”

Breakfast was eventful, to say the least. His grandma managed to win against Abeno-san’s husband, who accepted defeat with good grace. A lot of mixed comments were thrown around the table, with Miyako Iwaizumi semi-criticizing but also semi-praising the pancakes Abeno-san made. She said there was too much flour, or not enough milk in proportion to the flour, yet then exclaimed that they went perfectly well with the honey provided by Abeno-san’s husband.

After they were finished, Iwaizumi helped to wash the dishes, after which a pair of gardening gloves were thrown at him out of nowhere. He caught them and raised an eyebrow.

“Gardening is hard work, Hajime,” Abeno-san said, grinning. “Don’t want you getting dirty, do we now?”

“Of course not.” He grinned back and they both headed to the garden, where his make-shift net was hanging. The old, worn-down volleyball was sitting under the fence, which was dirty and falling apart from years of harsh spikes.

The next few hours breezed by.

It was on Saturday morning that Iwaizumi woke up later than usual and immediately felt that something was off. Something was very, very off but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He padded into the bathroom, putting his phone on the sink and quickly showering. By the time he dressed, it was already well after 11.

When he left the bathroom he stilled. Laughter was coming from the direction of the living room: masculine laughter that did not belong to Abeno-san’s husband but was all too familiar. He barged into the living room and his eyes almost bulged out of their sockets when he saw his teammates.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were sitting on the couch, across from his grandmother, while drinking steaming tea. Two small bags rested next to the couch, clearly belonging to his friends. His grandma laughed at a joke Hanamaki said before they finally realized he was even standing there, gaping like a fish.

“What-“ he started, but couldn’t form a proper sentence.

“’Sup?” Hanamaki grinned and mock-saluted.

“Someone slept a bit long today,” Matsukawa snickered, casually taking a sip of his tea.

Something snapped in Iwaizumi and before he knew it he was screaming. “What the hell are you two doing in Tokyo?! And here?!”

“Now, now, captain.” Hanamaki chided, motioning for Iwaizumi to sit down. “Don’t let that temper of yours flare up. It’s not a good look for a captain!”

“I’ll show you what-“ he started, rolling up his sleeves.

“Hajime, don’t be rude to our guests! They travelled here all the way from Miyagi!” Miyako snapped and he deflated, sinking into one of the sofa chairs. “Be nicer to them!”

“Yeah, Hajime- _kun,_ ” Hanamaki chuckled. “Be kinder to your guests!”

“Seriously though, what are you doing here?” Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand through slightly damp hair.

“Well, a certain someone refused to do me a favour,” Hanamaki started, grinning when Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows. “But then the perfect opportunity presented itself on Oikawa Tooru’s blog!”

“Oikawa who?” Iwaizumi asked.

Matsukawa snorted and Hanamaki slapped him hard on the back before turning back to Iwaizumi. “You know, the teen idol I asked you to find in one of his favourite spots? _The_ Oikawa Tooru? Does it not ring any bells? At all?”

“Nope.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “Unless he’s that guy the girls at school are always screaming about. Why is he such a big deal, anyway? And why are you so interested?”

“I did mention that my sister is a big fan, jeez.” The light-brown haired boy rolled his eyes, exasperated by his friend’s lack of knowledge in the celebrity department. “But I’ll ignore that. Basically, what happened is that two of Oikawa’s friends set up a gig for him to do on his birthday and we managed to snatch some tickets!”

“Then where’s your sister?” Iwaizumi deadpanned and looked around, expecting her to pop out from behind the furniture to try and scare him.

“She couldn’t come; mum was scared she’d get lost in Tokyo,” Matsukawa piped in, staring blankly at his empty cup of tea. “But we were allowed so obviously we’re here.”

“Yeah, and we’re going to that concert, which is Monday night.” Hanamaki grinned, exchanging glances with Matsukawa.

“And by we, we mean you and us,” Matsukawa added, grinning.

“I can’t,” Iwaizumi said, voice stern.

“Hajime!” His grandmother, who had been sitting silently listening to their exchange, finally spoke up. “You can’t be so rude. They paid for your ticket so you have to go!”

“But I’m here to assist you!” Iwaizumi snapped back. “As much as you think you’re fine, you need someone to be around to make sure you’re safe! What if you fall over again when I’m not here to help you?”

“Stop treating me like an old baba!” Miyako grunted. “I’ll invite Kaori and her husband to play bingo with me or something!”

“Listen man, the concert will not be that long,” Hanamaki assured him. “It starts at 7:30, but Oikawa has to leave early due to some family reasons. So we can leave as soon as he does!”

Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to regret this so much.”

“Nah,” they both said. “We think you’ll enjoy it!”

 _Great,_ Iwaizumi thought. _Now I’ll need to entertain those idiots for however long they stay._

_That’s just so fucking great._

***

 _Okay, why the hell did I agree to this?_ Iwaizumi thought, staring at the mob of people gathered in the building, which was far too small to hold _that number of people._ There must have been _hundreds_ ( _only_ 300, s his friends reminded him) of people, all pressing against each other to get to the stage across the hall, and he wanted to take part in none of it. _How the hell are they all so willing to pass out in the heat just to see some idol up-close?_

He didn’t understand and honestly, he didn’t care. He didn’t particularly want to be there, but someone had to baby-sit those two moronic best friends of his; not to mention, they did pay for his ticket and it wasn’t refundable. Though he was pretty sure if they sold it online, they could profit from that. That said, it was hard to baby-sit properly when his charges were nowhere in sight.]. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had failed to mention that they had managed to snatch two VIP tickets (only two, because the tickets were so expensive they had nearly cried) until they abandoned him at the entrance in favour of going back stage.

For some portion of the night, as the rest of the people filled the hall, he was kept busy assuring the bartender that he didn’t want a beer - just a glass of water. He was slightly mortified that they didn’t check ID’s. The majority of the people in the building were minors: _what the hell?_

He was just hoping that Matsukawa and Hanamaki wouldn’t be dumb enough to get drunk and expect him to let them in the house. In his grandmother’s house, where she would see them and scold them, and he would die because those two put way too much stress on him.

Shaking his head, he took a sip of his water, trying to ignore the burning look the bartender was drilling into the back of his head. More people started to swarm in through the doors and he made sure to comfortably sink against the bar as he watched them all scurry towards the stage. Most of them, as predicted, were teenaged girls around 15 years of age. Brooding fathers were following slowly behind them following slowly behind them, casting longing glances at the bar where Iwaizumi was.Screams erupted in the hall when the lights dimmed and focused on the stage. “’Sup guys!” someone shouted into the microphone. “Oikawa will come out soon! So I’m here to entertain you as a warm up!”

The guy that was on stage gave off a vibe of confidence. Iwaiuzmi couldn’t see well from where he was seated but he seemed to have a muscular build and had a peculiar hairstyle. It was spiked up and dyed in weird white-grey stripes with some black mixed in. Iwaizumi assumed the black was his natural hair colour. The guy started rapping and Iwaizumi admitted that it was pretty good, even though he had no clue who the guy was.

Around the third song, with a lot of monologue between each song from the rapper, Iwaizumi finished drinking his fourth glass of water. _I could probably head back now,_ he thought, shoving his hand in his pocket and feeling the bus ticket crumple under his fingers. The bus stop wasn’t far and he could text those two idiots that he was leaving. They should be able to get back without him and he did give them the bus schedule. If they didn’t catch the last bus, they could just crash at the bus stop until the first one arrived the next morning.

He placed the empty glass of water on the bar, slid it towards the bartender and then hopped off the stool. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts, he scanned the crowd, with a small flicker of hope that he would find his friends. But even amongst short high and middle schoolers, he couldn’t spot them. Not that he’d had high expectations of finding them. With VIP tickets it was unlikely they would come into the main crowd to mingle.

 _Yeah, I should definitely head back now,_ he concluded, seeing the lights focus on the centre of the stage. The entire hall erupted into screams. That was his cue to leave, _but first things first. I gotta piss._

The bathroom was fairly small, with 4 stools and a decent line of guys waiting to use it. There were some older guys scrunched in the corner, looking read to hurl. He barely glanced at them. Instead, he focused on his phone as he waited for the cue to move along. From the main hall, he could still hear most of what was happening. There was obvious screaming going on, which was backed up by music and a sweet voice singing some love song in English.

By the time he did his business, washed his hand and left the bathroom, the artist was already halfway through the third song. It sounded like a love song, but was in English so he didn’t understand it too much. Iwaizumi had to admit that the singer was good, as the words were sung clearly for the audience to understand. But the music itself was way too sweet, too much like the generic pop music he heard all too often on the radio.

The phone in his pocket vibrated as he made his way to the door. He stood to the side so he wouldn’t bump shoulders with people and unlocked his phone to see messages from Matsukawa and Hanamaki respectively.

**Matsukawa, 8:15**

**> > _backstage is the shit man_**

**_> > theres a dude who looks like an owl_ **

**Hanamaki, 8:15**

**_> > Oikawa is ON STAGE_ **

**_> >DONT MISS IT_ **

**_> >HURRY UP HES NEARLY DONE, TELL ME WHAT U THNK_ **

**_> >??!!_ **

He sighed and turned around to see what all the craze was about. The bright lights made it difficult to see, so all he saw was a slender figure with fluffy hair who was waving at the audience. The grand Oikawa Tooru was finished after just 3 songs ( _that’s shitty,_ Iwaizumi thought) and he was already walking back stage.

Iwaizumi quickly texted back a reply, ignoring the eruption of screams behind him.

**> >> Missed him, went for a piss and then he was done when I was reading the messages. I’m heading home. Don’t miss the bus. **

“Heyy, Heyy, Heyyy!” A boisterous voice rang out behind him and Iwaizumi decided that he definitely needed to get out of there. “How y’all doing?! Sorry that Oikawa, my man, had to leave so early…“ The outside air felt like a blessing to Iwaizumi, compared to the over-heated and cramped inside of the concert-hall.

He sighed, taking the route that felt like the quickest way to the bus station: the alarm-raising alleyway that was stationed between the concert-hall and some corner shop that was closed. Judging by the name, it was a ramen-based shop. Probably. Not that it mattered. He probably wouldn’t be back there any time soon, anyway. And he didn’t feel like going around the entire building to get where he needed.

 

No, shortcuts were much appreciated.

 

So he found himself rounding the corner and walking down the alley and raising an eyebrow at at the sight of an expensive, obviously personalized car . An Aston Martin, he guessed, but he wasn’t that great with car brands and all the space-themed colours were slightly distracting. It was slightly disturbing, too. Its teal front and back slowly faded into purple dotted with stars, resembling what he assumed was supposed to be space.

 

He was so focused on the colours of the car as he continued to walk that he ended up dropping his phone by the door and he bent over to pick it up just as someone opened the door. Iwaizumi blinked in surprise, too stunned to move before the door collided with his head and he dropped to the ground like a heavy sack of potatoes.

 

A pair of eyes blinked down at him and he heard a horrified screech.

 

He then promptly passed out.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd like to thank Intra-Fiducia for being an amazing Beta! 
> 
> (How do I put link in the notes, anyone?)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

Oikawa hummed to himself as he rummaged through his bag in search of the Polaroid Bokuto had taken of them and Kuroo, which he was sure he put there, but he couldn’t find it. He pursed his lips, dropped the bag in the passenger seat and reclined back against the leather seats of his birthday car, a present he had received from his parents earlier in the day when they came to see him. It was exactly what he had always dreamed of and he couldn’t be happier to finally have his dream car. After a few minutes of pondering whether to leave or go back to get the Polaroid, he picked up his phone, bringing up his messages and selecting his friend.

**Kou-chan** **, 8:17**

**> > K** **ou-chan1** **!! Did I leave the Polaroid with you??!**

**> > (** **๑** **ˊ** **͈** **ᐞ** **ˋ** **͈** **)** **ƅ** **̋**

He waited a moment for a response but after a few prolonged minutes he still hadn’t received one. He did receive a bunch of e-mails, some from his manager and others from websites he was subscribed to courtesy of Kuroo and Bokuto. He’d look at the ones from his manager soon enough. Tomorrow, maybe. If they were really important, his manager would have called or left a voicemail. E-mails were usually offers forwarded to Oikawa, ones that his manager thought he might be interested in. “Kou-chan is probably doing his gig still,” he muttered, throwing his head back against the seat and thrumming his fingers against the steering wheel with growing impatience.

“Whatever, I have time. I can go get it.” He threw open the door without hesitation and visibly flinched when it collided with something and moved to close from the sudden impact.

“Holy shit!” he blurted out, jumping out of the car in a frenzy and slamming the door shut behind him. He stared down, horrified, at the vitcim. The dark-haired man stared back at him in daze before passing out, head hitting the concrete with a loud thump and limbs sprawling around him.

“Oh my god,” Oikawa whispered, eyes going wide.

_Don’t panic, Tooru_ he told himself, taking a deep breath. _Assess the situation. Calmly._

There was a smartphone lying on the ground screen-down, with a Godzilla case. It was near the hand of the stranger. _Okay, breathe, Tooru. He was obviously trying to reach for his phone._ Right. And then Oikawa had slammed the door in his fucking head.

_How did I not see him approach? Or hear, or something?_ Oikawa wondered, biting his lip nervously and thrumming his fingers on his thigh. He was sure this could have been avoided if he had seen or heard the man approach, or better yet, if the man hadn’t sneaked around his car and dropped the phone by the door. _Maybe he’s a psycho fan? No, doesn’t seem like the kind…_

“What do I do, what do I do…” he muttered like a mantra, clenching his phone in his hand and nervously chewing on his bottom lip until it started hurting. “Oh my god, what if he got a concussion? What should I do? Take him to the hospital?”

_That’s the logical thing to do,_ he thought miserably.

He carefully kneeled next to the man, taking extra care when moving his head to check if he was fine. Besides a quickly bruising forehead ( _this will look very ugly when he wakes up_ ), nothing seemed out of place. No cuts; no blood. Though he wasn’t moving or showing any signs of being alive, and in the darkness of the alley it was hard to see if he was breathing. Oikawa didn’t want to flip him over to confirm, since he didn’t want to risk hurting him further.

He quickly speed-dialled his friend.

After a single beep, a _smirking_ voice rang through the speaker. “Kuroo speaking,” the voice drawled out. “How may I be of service to you tonight?”

“Tetsu-chan, I just killed him,” Oikawa blurted out into the phone, voice cracking. And just like that, he couldn’t stop the word vomit. “I just killed a man. I think. Oh my god, what if I go to jail? Tetsu-chan, I am _too young_ to go to prison. My career is over. _OVER._ Do you understand? I’m ru-“

“Whoa, whoa,” Kuroo said loudly over the phone, cutting off whatever Oikawa was going to continue spewing in his long speech. “Slow down there, buddy. What happened? _Where_ are you?”

Oikawa took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’m by my car. I slammed the door into some guy’s head and now he’s passed out and I’m not even sure he’s breathing. I mean, I checked and he just has a bruise on the forehead but what if I, like, broke his spine or something? It sounded pretty bad. He hasn’t moved yet at all. Tetsu-chan, _what do I do?_ “ he panicked, glancing around to ensure no one had managed to see how he had knocked out someone who looked like they could knock _him_ out with a single hit.

“Chill, Oikawa. I’m sure he’s fine. You probably can’t kill someone just by slamming a door in their face.“ Kuroo laughed and Oikawa frowned, eyebrows creasing.

“That probably wasn’t necessary, Tetsu-chan,” he mumbled, wrapping one of his arms around his knee as he continued to observe the unconscious man. “Please come and help me out of this unfavourable predicament.”

“Already on my way, princess,” Kuroo replied lightly. Before Oikawa could protest against the nickname, he spoke again. “But if you did kill him and need a lawyer, I assure you I could argue your way out of prison!” Oikawa bristled and quickly hung up on his laughing friend without bothering to think up a retort.

“Stupid Tetsu-chan,” he grumbled. “You’re not even a lawyer!”

Oikawa took the opportunity to actually study the visible features of the man, who on closer inspection didn’t look much older. Maybe he was the same age, or if anything, a first or a second year in college. He had short spiky hair ( _“Looks like a porcupine; I’m sure he’d get along with that owl and rooster head”_ ) that was dark; black or dark-brown; he couldn’t tell in the dim lights of the street lamps. The artificial lighting was too bad to tell such important details apart.

The man was arguably shorter than Oikawa, or maybe the same height, but he _seemed_ short nonetheless. He was definitely an athletic type, Oikawa decided with confidence. _Most likely been that way through High School,_ Oikawa thought, looking at the man’s toned arms and legs.

The door to his right opened with a bang and startled him into flinching.

“So, what do we have here?” Kuroo drawled, lazily approaching Oikawa and the unconscious man. Oikawa stood up quickly and turned to face his friend.

“I really didn’t do this on purpose,” he quickly defended himself. “I didn’t see him out here and I think he was picking up his phone. Bad timing.”

“Yeah, I gather that much.” Kuroo nodded, assessing the situation with half-lidded eyes. “As much of an asshole as you can be, you wouldn’t hurt someone on purpose. You might be late to your dinner, but we have to deal with him first.”

“What about Bokuto?” Oikawa asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you tell him? He’ll be annoyed if we both leave.”

“He’s too busy entertaining your audience, so a message will do.” Kuroo shrugged. “Alright, we need to get him into the back of your car, then take him to the clinic for a check-up or to your house to let him sleep it off,” he suggested, unabashedly staring at Oikawa.

Oikawa pursed his lips. “The right thing to do would be to take him to the clinic to get a check-up but I don’t want it getting out that I caused bodily harm to someone. The papers would have a field day. I say we take him to my apartment and see how it goes!”

“And by that you mean we’ll drop him off and I’ll watch him while you attend dinner, yes?” Kuroo sighed but showed no signs of protest.

“I owe you big time, Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa grinned.

“You bet you do,” Kuroo grinned. “Now open up the door and move the seat as far forward as it goes. Your car having two doors is so shitty man.”

“I would take down the roof but I’m still figuring it out.” Oikawa sent Kuroo an apologetic look over his shoulder as he rummaged in the car, pushing the driver seat as far forward as it would allow, giving just enough space to get the man into the back. “Ready!”

“Okay.” Kuroo lifted the man under his armpits, half dragging him across the ground. “Alright, hold him while I get in the back and support him from the inside.”

When Kuroo was sure Oikawa had good support of the unconscious guy, he slipped into the back of the car and easily helped to put the guy in the seat. He buckled the seatbelt and leaned the man’s head back so he wasn’t slouching forward.

“Don’t forget to grab his belongings off the floor!” Kuroo reminded.

“I know!” Oikawa squeaked and quickly slipped into the driver’s seat. “Here, his phone and some bus ticket.” Oikawa handed Kuroo the things and then put on his own seatbelt.

“This is definitely not how I imagined the night would go.” Kuroo let out a breathy chuckle, sinking deep into the comfortable seats. “Happy 18th, Tooru. Nearly murdering someone.”

“Tell me about it,” Oikawa grunted. “Bets birthday ever, woo!” He cheered with fake enthusiasm, driving onto the main road and driving as fast the speed limit would allow.

“And it’s the first day you can legally drive, too.” Kuroo sighed. “Couldn’t have been any better, eh?”

“Oh, just shut up,” Oikawa huffed out, concentrating on the road and not bumping into cars in the traffic.

“Doing that now. Yep. Zipping it,” Kuroo mocked, pretending to zip his lips, lock them and throw the key away behind him.

The next few minutes were tense. Oikawa couldn’t help but keep glancing in the mirror to watch the unconscious man sitting there with that horrible bruise.

When they got caught up at a red light, Oikawa took another glance back and frowned. “Maybe we should take him to the clinic? What if he got a concussion or something?”

“You’re that worried, huh?” Kuroo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t you be worried if you knocked someone out? Not to mention that bruise is not looking great.” He watched the light flicker to green before continuing onward.

“Alright, how about you drop us off to the clinic to ease your nerves? I’ll stay there with him and you can get to your family dinner while _not_ being a nervous wreck.” Kuroo suggested.

“Tetsu-chan, you’re such a voice of reason.” Oikawa smiled, feeling more at ease with his friend being there for him. “I’ll come get you as soon as dinner is finished.”

“You better not leave me stranded with a stranger in a clinic,” Kuroo warned. “It’ll seem like I attacked him or something!”

“If you attacked him you wouldn’t be there with him.” Oikawa chuckled, relaxing.

“Not if I started feeling bad right after,” Kuroo defended. “I’ll let Bokuto know what the plan for the rest of the night is.”

While Kuroo exchanged messages with Bokuto (who was supposedly replying while still entertaining the audience), Oikawa managed to drive them to the clinic without panicking.

He took them to a private clinic, where his doctor would do a check-up on the unidentified man with full discretion. While he was sorting out the formalities, Kuroo assisted an older nurse with lifting Iwaizumi out of the car and onto the wheelchair.

When they entered the lobby, Oikawa was signing papers.

“Yamazawa-sensei will take a look at him. Just follow the nurse.” Oikawa nodded at the older nurse. “I reckon dinner will last around 2 hours, so I should be here just after 11. Message me if he wakes up!”

“Sure thing!” Kuroo hollered after Oikawa, who was already running out the door.

“Well then, follow me.” The nurse smiled and they headed down the corridor.

***

Dinner with the Oikawa family was hectic, to say the least. There were problems with finding a parking space, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as the embarrassing headlock his sister put him in in front of the entire restaurant. She easily mussed up his hair and it was still sticking out more than usual while he was driving back to the clinic. Takeru made a promise to visit Oikawa in the afternoon and drag him out to play some volleyball the next day. Oikawa assured his nephew that he would take him to the gymnasium - as long as he behaved.

Now, Oikawa was briskly walking down the corridor to Yamazawa-sensei’s office. He knocked and entered when he heard the familiar voice of his doctor call him in.

“How is he?” he asked immediately, closing the door behind him.

Kuroo was sitting on a sofa chair next to a patient bed, where the man was lying, still unconscious, with a damp towel thrown over his forehead. Kuroo was vigorously playing a game, and he was concentrating hard, judging by the way he was smashing his fingers against the screen.

“He is fine, but will definitely have a headache in the morning.” The doctor sighed. “I have prescribed some pain killers to give him tomorrow. He might also feel a bit sick when he wakes up so a bucket should be prepared just in case, unless you want him to stay here for the night.” The doctor handed him a small brown bag with a bottle and few white pills.

“I’ll take responsibility,” Oikawa said. “I’ll take him back with me and ensure he gets home safely tomorrow. Did you check if he has any identification or him, a contact number?”

“We did.” Kuroo grinned, looking up from his phone. “Iwaizumi Hajime, aged 18. There is an address inside the wallet but it’s not very helpful. It says he lives in Sendai.”

“So, he’s visiting? That’s just great,” Oikawa whined, shoulders slumping.

“Way to make someone’s trip exciting,” Kuroo grinned. “By the way, Bokuto managed to close the concert well and was nearly swarmed on the way out. For a guy who doesn’t want fame, he’s sure getting there.”

“Kou-chan has it in him to become a great star. He’s just not bothered.” Oikawa shrugged. “Are there any other forms I have to sign?”

“Yeah, just this release form and you’re good to go.” Yamazawa-sensei smiled and Oikawa quickly signed the appropriate forms. “Have a good night, guys.” He waved at them as they made their way out, with the unconscious Iwaizumi in the wheelchair.

“Let’s hope your mum won’t barge in tomorrow in the morning. I think she’d freak out,” Kuroo said, buckling his seat belt.

“Nah, my mum’s pretty tough. It’s my sister’s husband who’d probably faint!” Oikawa chuckled. “Takeru is coming in the afternoon but I should be able to get Iwaizumi home before then, and if not, you can keep him busy.”

“You know, Bokuto and I will start charging for the shit you make us do for you.”

“Tee-hee.” Oikawa stuck his tongue out and Kuroo glared at him through the rear-view mirror. “You know you can’t hate your amazing Oikawa-sama!”

“Shut up and drive, Princess!”

***

When Iwaizumi woke up, his head was throbbing painfully and he felt a sudden onslaught of nausea rising in his throat. Mostly, though, he was disoriented. He brought his hand to his forehead, massaging it in the hope that it would ease the banging headache he was experiencing. He inhaled deeply and sat up on the exhale, using one hand to prop himself into a sitting position while he kept the other pressed against his forehead, hoping to alleviate the annoying throb.

_What the fuck?_ was his first thought, as soon as he took the time to survey his foreign surroundings. The room was mostly space-themed, with posters of aliens plastered on teal walls with high ceilings giving room for one too many. There was a large variety of lava lamps scattered around the room (two on the desk, a few more on shelves, another one on the nightstand to his left) in various colours, shapes and sizes. After staring at them for a few prolonged minutes he found that he was oddly fascinated by them, especially the jellyfish one on the desk.

It was oddly therapeutic, watching the umbrella-like creatures floating and glowing a bright purple.

There was a variety of music and DVDs spread out across multiple shelves, arranged from science fiction to adventure to romance, with small subheadings on the shelves. He had to squint to read the writing and the headache really wasn’t helping him. He was wondering where the hell he was and how he got there, and when he turned to see what was to his far right, he knew he would get those answers soon enough. A guy with an impressive bedhead smirked at him while slouched into a beanbag, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned back. Golden eyes stared relentlessly at him.

Iwaizumi should have felt intimidated. He was in an unknown place, for an unknown reason, with some stranger staring at him. However, when the guy was sitting in that green beanbag, which was a bit too big for him, he just looked to Iwaizumi like someone who was going to drown in the green pillow. Which made him feel a little bit more at ease. If the guy tried something, Iwaizumi was sure he could dart out the door before the other would be able to lift himself from the beanbag that was most likely trying to swallow him.

“Yo,” the guy continued, smirking. “I know you’re confused and everything and I’ll answer most of the questions you have, but first take some pain killers, drink water and eat that sandwich.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Iwaizumi grumbled, and snatched the small bottle of the nightstand to his right. He squinted and read the small print. It was definitely a well-known brand of pain killers. Taking his chances, he ate the sandwich and then the pill with some water. “How come you won’t answer all my questions?”

“Well, mainly because I’m not the one who put you in this situation.” The man shrugged. “By the way, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. I checked your wallet for identification so I know who you are.”

“What time it is?” Iwaizumi asked, completely ignoring the short introduction.

“It’s around 10 in the morning-“ Kuroo started but was stopped short by Iwaizumi.

“SHIT!” He blurted out, jumping out of bed. He immediately felt dizzy and sat down on the bed. “What the hell? I need to get back home. Tell me how to get to Tokyo Station.”

“Relax,” Kuroo said, voice soft. “I know you’re confused and everything but it’s all cool. Two of your friends called yesterday around midnight and we explained the situation. They said they’d take care of your grandma until you get back.”

“Shit,” Iwaizumi cursed. “Those two morons are probably just fucking around in the backyard.”

“In their defence, they sounded pretty reliable.” Kuroo shrugged. “But putting them aside, the man who will answer your questions will be coming here soon to explain everything. He’s just busy trying to talk our friend out of doing something stupid.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi relented. He really needed to know what had happened last night. He remembered the noise and leaving the music venue. Then there was a fancy car and he had dropped his phone. He started feeling nauseous just thinking about it. Maybe jumping up right after swallowing a sandwich was not a good idea.

“By the way, not to offend you or anything but you look like shit,” Kuroo said, managing to weasel himself out of the beanbag. “Here, take a look.” He walked over with a mirror in hand.

Just as Iwaizumi reached over to take it, he felt the entire contents of his stomach rise up in his throat. He hunched over and threw up on Kuroo’s shoes.

“Oh man!” Kuroo groaned, shoulders slumping. “I got those just the other day, dude!”

“Sorry.” Iwaizumi muttered, covering his mouth and hoping no more would come out.

“It’s cool, the doctor warned us so I should have left a wider gap between us. Here, take a mirror and examine yourself.”

Iwaizumi took the mirror and examined his face while Kuroo slipped off his shoes and went out through one of the two doors in the room. He came back with a towel and started cleaning the mess, one hand pinching his nose while he grimaced.

Similarly, Iwaizumi grimaced seeing the nasty bruise spread over his entire forehead, which reminded him of the door that slammed into his head. Sighing, he placed the mirror on the bed just as someone walked through the second set of doors.

“Yahoo~” The guy in the doorway said, cheerfully. “I hope you’re doing well, Iwa-chan!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Intra-fiducia, for doing the beta for this chapter!

“Yahoo~” the guy in the doorway said, cheerfully. “I hope you’re doing well, Iwa-chan!”

“Ohoho?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow and then a cheshire-cat grin spread across his face, as he pinched the end of the soiled towel, keeping it a good distance away from his body. “There he is! The man who will answer all your questions! Don’t feel the need to hold back,” he said, looking directly at Iwaizumi and sticking his thumb in the general direction of the guy standing in the doorway. Kuroo then slipped through the second set of doors, leaving them alone.

Iwaizumi frowned and tilted his head to the side, taking in the sight of the newcomer. The perfectly tousled hair that looked effortless on him seemed vaguely familiar. While Iwaizumi was unabashedly staring at him, squinting almost, the stranger stared right back with wide, expectant eyes, as if urging Iwaizumi to break the heavy silence. Iwaizumi wasn’t going to; he was busy absorbing all the information about the newcomer his brain could supply. He was tall and slender, and carried himself with a sort of airy confidence.

The kind of confidence that unnerved Iwaizumi.

“Huh?” The stranger cocked his head to the side, blinking quickly a few times. “Iwa-chan, are you broken or something? Did Tetsu-chan do something to you while I was busy?” He turned to pout at the overbearing man who re-entered the room and shrugged in response, leaning against the wall to blatantly listen to their so-far silent and one-sided conversation.

“If anyone’s making him uneasy, it’s definitely you. He was mostly fine when it was just the two of us,” Kuroo supplied, cringing at the fresh memory of the accident that took place moments before his friends’ arrival. “You have that effect on people.”

“Rude, Tetsu-chan! How could I make him feel uneasy?” Oikawa gasped. “I don’t look like a criminal; I’m a genuine and caring person!” he argued, feigning shock and dramatically pressing a hand over his heart. “Why don’t you just go to Kou-chan? He’s still attempting to destroy my kitchen as we speak.”

Kuroo glanced at Iwaizumi and noticed he was growing increasingly agitated, if not irritated, by the moment. His hand was curled into a fist and his brows were furrowed. “Nah, I think I’ll chill here for a bit. I’m sure Bo won’t blow anything up.” Kuroo smirked. “I also wanna make sure you tell him everything that happened – the truth and only that!”

“Tetsu-chan, stop it! You’re supposed to be _my friend_! How could you imply I’d lie?” Oikawa asked in a high pitched voice, the shrill tone piercing through Iwaizumi’s throbbing skull in the most annoying way. His fist was itching to connect with something, _anything_ , to stop the annoying ache. Even if that something was the strangers face.

“Shut the fuck up,” Iwaizumi growled instead, deciding against using violence in a stranger’s home. He glared directly into Oikawa’s brown eyes without breaking contact.

“W-what?” Oikawa sputtered, eyes going wide and not even a split-second later Kuroo guffawed loudly, bending over to clutch at his stomach. That noise wasn’t appreciated by Iwaizumi any more than the stupid shrill noise the stranger could produce; he should have taken more meds. That one pill was definitely taking time to take any effect. A minimum of two should have been his dose, to even slightly alleviate the headache.

“I said to _shut the fuck up._ ” Iwaizumi repeated, exhaling loudly through his nostrils, shoulders slouching. “You are too loud and I have a killer headache.”

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” Kuroo wheezed between bursts of loud, aggravating laughter. “I can’t believe someone actually said that to you. Besides me and Bo, that is!”

“I know, Tetsu-chan, how scandalous.” Oikawa frowned, tilting his head to the side, his hair bouncing with the sudden movement. “Iwa-chan, do you know who I am? You’re so rude, speaking to me like that. I saved your life you know!”

“Am I _supposed_ to know who you are?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow, puzzled at the way the guy was talking to him and already getting tired of the exchange of words. They weren’t getting anywhere like that. All he wanted was the information on what the hell happened and then to get the hell out of there.

As the silence in the room dragged on, broken somewhat by Kuroo’s snorting into his hand from laughing too hard, Iwaizumi started to examine Oikawa more closely. The latter just seemed to become increasingly more shocked the longer Iwaizumi scrutinised him. Then, it finally clicked.

Tousled, fluffy hair. Slender figure. Lights too bright for his liking. Loads of shrill screams.

“Ah.” Iwaizumi breathed out. “You’re that idol.”

“ _That idol_ ,” Kuroo repeated with wonder in his voice and then started laughing hysterically all over again, nearly falling over. “Jeez, I like this guy!”

“Wow. That was rude and uncalled for, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa jutted out his lower lip in a protesting pout, stepping inside the room and flopping down on the edge of the bed. Automatically, Iwaizumi shifted closer to the headboard, putting some distance between them. Oikawa ignored that. “I’m Oikawa Tooru!”

“Yeah I know who you are, now. I was at your concert last night,” Iwaizumi admitted and shrugged. _Though I couldn’t quite remember your name._ He decided not to share that and further insult the guy.

“Oh?” Oikawa cocked his head to the side. “A secret fan? A fan in denial? Or maybe the head-injury caused a temporary memory lapse? Well, don’t worry! This amazing Oikawa-sama will forgive for your insolence.”

“Could you be any more _pompous?_ ” Iwaizumi whispered in disbelief. Kuroo chuckled next to him, before a loud bang, followed by a scream, echoed down the hallway. He darted out the room without saying a word. “My friends forced me to go to your concert. I don’t even like pop music. I didn’t get to see you since the lights were in the way so that’s why I didn’t re-. Wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

“Well, that’s unfortunate, but what can I do?” Oikawa licked his lip and Iwaizumi noticed he thrummed his fingers against his thigh in a pattern. “But you probably have some questions and want answers to them.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Iwaizumi nodded. “But first things first, we need to clear up some things. What the fuck is up with this Iwa-chan? It’s ridiculous, so stop calling me that shitty thing. I’m 18, not 5. And we’re not friends.”

“Ehh? I call everyone nicknames! Kuroo is Tetsu-chan and Bokuto is Kou-chan, and now you are Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined, jutting out his lip in another pout. Iwaizumi wanted to shake his head at that. Just how old was this guy? Did he really believe a _pout_ would work?

“Just call me Iwaizumi. Kuroo and Bokuto are your friends, but I don’t know you so nicknames are a no, Oikawa.”

“Iwaizumi is such a mouthful, though,” Oikawa said, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, I’m going to stick to calling you Iwa-chan!”

“Every time you do I will smack you.”

“So mean, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa muttered and Iwaizumi grabbed the closest pillow to throw at his face. He watched in satisfaction as the space ship shaped cushion collided with the target and muffled Oikawa’s scream of protest. “That’s abusive!”

“Fine, then I’ll be calling you Shittykawa from now on.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms over his chest, smirking. “Or maybe Trashykawa. Now tell me what happened last night and make it quick.”

 

“So rude, Iwa-chan. You’re a brute! A gorilla disguised as a man!” Oikawa sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright then. I’ll personally take you home after we finish talking. Don’t want you knowing how to get back here! To start off with, I suppose it all happened after I was in my car, looking for a Pola-“

“I won’t leak your address anywhere,” Iwaizumi cut him off, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “There’s no gain for me from that, except making your life miserable. And please cut out all the unimportant details.” The headache was finally subsiding now that Oikawa’s shrill voice wasn’t filling the room and the loud laughter wasn’t ringing in his ears.

“Awh, you’re no fun.” Oikawa mumbled, but his whining did not consist of much more than that. “So what happened was I opened the door to get out of the car and it collided with something, namely your forehead, unfortunately.” Oikawa pointed at Iwaizumi and cringed when he took in the dark bruise covering majority of Iwaizumi’s forehead. It didn’t look pretty. “You passed out in a second flat.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that much.” Iwaizumi nodded thoughtfully, furrowing his brows and ignoring the twinge of pain that spread through his bruised area. “I dropped my phone and when I tried to pick it up something hit me in the head pretty fucking hard.”

“Yeah, that was my door, sorry about that.” Oikawa muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and sending a genuine apologetic smile at Iwaizumi.

 “’S fine, not entirely your fault, I’ll admit. I shouldn’t have been distracted and dropped my phone.”

“Oh Iwa-chan, a true gentleman, admitting his faults!” Oikawa grinned. “But can I ask a question?” When Iwaizumi nodded, he continued. “Why were you on that side road anyway?”

“Can you _please_ shut the fuck up about this Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi sounded exasperated as he ran a hand through his hair. “I was on my way to the bus station. I had decided to head out earlier, as my friends ditched me at the entrance. As it happened your fancy car was fairly distracting.”

“Ohhh,” Oikawa whispered, amazed. “Iwa-chan likes my fancy car?”

“It was distracting, and the fact I called it fancy has nothing to do with liking it, which I do not. Now get on with the rest of the story.”

“Yes sir!” Oikawa sat up straighter, mock-saluting. “I panicked and called Tetsu-chan who is very reliable in situations like this, despite how he looks. He keeps his head on his shoulders, or something! We put you in the back of my car and were originally going to take you straight here to avoid getting potential shit from all the papers but I was worried about you getting a concussion so I took you to a private clinic,” he said in one breath and Iwaizumi struggled to catch the entire sentence.

“Holy shit, that must have been expensive,” Iwaizumi blurted out, eyes going wide.

“That’s well beside the point, Iwa-chan. I paid for the damage I caused you, so don’t worry about it!” Oikawa said, not allowing Iwaizumi to speak, as he was worried that he was the type who hated owing people and would insist on paying Oikawa back. “The doctor did a check-up on you and gave you the all clear. Oh, but I wasn’t there for it so if you want details about the check-up ask Tetsu-chan, since he was there.” Oikawa shrugged.

“Where did you go off to then?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Also, why’d you end up taking me there if you didn’t want shit in the papers about it? I’m sure someone must have clocked onto you.”

“Family dinner, unavoidable.” Oikawa scratched the back of his head, at a loss of words for a brief moment. “I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt just because I refused to get you for a check-up in fear of the stupid media. I swallowed my pride and potential trouble and went there. Tetsu-chan helped me figure out a story if they got any pictures from last night, so don’t worry about a thing, Iwa-chan! I had the whole night to think it through!”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi muttered, fully understanding how hard it was to get out of family dinners. He once tried to stay in the bedroom through Christmas dinner, when he was going through a rebellious stage at the tender age of 13, his grandma pulled him out by his ear, pretty painfully.

“But thanks,” he added quickly. “You know, for risking shit. For an idol like you it’d be bad if something like this were to get out.”

Oikawa chuckled, smiling. “You’re not wrong there.”

Even with the earlier irritation still fresh in his mind, Iwaizumi found himself gently smiling back. When he wasn’t using his shrill voice, Oikawa had quite a deep voice, which was nice to listen to. Bonus points when he didn’t use the godforsaken nickname in a sentence.

“After that, we brought you here to sleep it off. We looked for your address but it’s not in Tokyo so it left us quite baffled. But oh!” Oikawa brightened, grinning widely. “Your friends Makki and Mattsun called! We assured them you were fine and that I’d bring you back in the morning. “

“Fair enough.” Iwaizumi nodded. “And thanks. Seriously. Some people would have just ditched me there and you risked your reputation just to make sure I didn’t get a concussion.”

Oikawa looked taken aback before smiling slyly, shifting slightly closer. “Could the rude Iwa-chan have a soft side?”

“Don’t make me regret thanking you, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Iwa-chan is a softie!” Oikawa cooed, eyes lighting up. “But don’t worry about my reputation. I won’t let it be tarnished by something like this!” Oikawa held up his hand in a peace sign and stuck his tongue out. Iwaizumi wanted nothing more than to smack that hand and that expression off his face.

“Good for you,” Iwaizumi found himself saying, sincerely.

Oikawa was smiling, just slightly. Not the usual wide smile or grin he threw between every sentence. _Huh,_ Iwaizumi thought. _That looks genuine._

“Alright, let’s get you out of here,” Oikawa hummed, jumping up and heading for the door. “Oh! If you want to use the toilet, feel free to use mine!”

“Sounds good.” Iwaizumi lifted himself off the comfortable bed and quickly made use of the private bathroom, taking in the wide-range of seaside decorations. When he finished, Oikawa was still waiting for him in his bedroom. “I was not planning on staying out all night, and those two morons who called you can’t be trusted. Ever.”

“Your friends, Matssun and Makki?” Oikawa cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah, those two.” Iwaizumi run a hand through his hair, frowning at the nicknames his friends acquired. “The meme-loving idiots who followed me all the way out here.” Before exiting the room, Iwaizumi spared on last glance at the desk. Maybe a jellyfish lava lamp wouldn’t be such a bad addition to his mostly plain room.

“Hmm,” Oikawa hummed, intertwining his fingers behind his back. “Did something happen to your grandma?”

“Nothing serious.” Iwaizumi waved the question off, looking around the corridor and flinching when he heard screams coming from one of the rooms, getting louder by the moment. “Where are my shoes?”

“Over there.” Oikawa waved at the genkan in the doorway and pushed open the door, which made the noises spill out twice as loud. “You guys, shut up! Iwa-chan has a headache!”

“Sorry!” A voice Iwaizumi didn’t recognise spoke. “Is the stranger awake?”

Kuroo’s muffled voice could be heard saying, “I literally just told you that!”

“Yeah, I’m actually taking him back now. Don’t wreck my place and if Takeru comes before I get back, play some games with him. Take him to the arcade or the sports hall! Do something he likes!”

“Roger that!” the two voices replied and Oikawa sighed, closing the door.

During that quick exchange, Iwaizumi pulled on his shoes, ready to go. Oikawa motioned for Iwaizumi to follow him, which he did gladly. He was more than ready to finally get back to his grandma’s house to make sure she was fine and his two friends behaved.

“I hope you’re not planning on getting me there with that flashy car of yours.” Iwaizumi said to break the silence as they headed for the lift. He gave Oikawa a look that just dared him to say yes.

“I’m not silly, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa huffed out. “I have a different car, which is really simple and has tinted windows! They will never know it’s us!”

“Hmm, I’ll believe you for now.” Iwaizumi shrugged and stepped into the lift, watching Oikawa press the basement key. “So, how long have you been driving for?”

Oikawa chuckled nervously and averted his eyes. “Since my birthday.”

“So, how long? How old are you?”

“I’m 18, which thinking about it, didn’t you say you’re 18, too?”

“Yeah, I did. So when did you turn 18?”

“…”

“…”

“Yesterday.” Oikawa replied, sheepishly.

“Are you kidding? You’ve been driving since yesterday and you already have two cars?”

“I passed my driving license when I was 17, I just needed to wait to turn 18 to drive! I bought the car we’ll be taking with my own money a few months back to have something to drive in! I’m a perfectly safe driver!”

“I wouldn’t know that, now, would I?”

Oikawa frowned, eyebrows creasing. “Shit. It feels like you should know since you were in my car, but I guess you were unconscious.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Iwaizumi smirked, following Oikawa out of the elevator when it reached the garage. It was filled with variety of expensive cars, ranging from range rovers to sport cars. Oikawa’s galaxy themed car parked in the corner stood out from the rest. “So, what car are we getting?”

“My favourite baby that does not stand out on the streets!” Oikawa grinned, skipping over to a black car. “Pun-chan, the fiat Punto!” Iwaizumi blinked, wondering if the idol was joking. But Oikawa took out keys and opened the driver’s seat, taking his place behind the wheel. “Come on, Iwa-chan! My nephew is coming later!”

Iwaizumi slipped into the passenger’s seat, buckling his seatbelt and staring blankly at Oikawa. “I was expecting something fancy.”

“It’s all about simplicity, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa nodded, reaching over to the glove box. “As an idol, people expect me to get the best things in the world, so me driving a simpler car wouldn’t cross their minds!”

“Yeah, but if they see you through the window they’ll have it figured out,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, unimpressed.

“I’m not an idiot,” Oikawa said, pulling out a set of sunglasses and a hat from the glove box. “I have a disguise!”

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa as he slipped on the large sunglasses taking up most of his face and then the cap that covered most of his hair. “This is your brilliant plan? Have you ever tried it?”

“When I was a passenger I have! No one realised who I was! Bonus points if I wear a face mask! I’m invisible in those situations!” Oikawa put the key in ignition and turned it, listening to the sound of the car coming alive.

“If you say so,” Iwaizumi leaned back into the comfortable seat. “Gimme your phone so I can put in the address. I won’t know how to direct you through Tokyo without using Google Maps.”

“Yep, of course. Here you go!” Oikawa presented Iwaizumi with his smartphone and the captain quickly typed his grandmother’s address before handing the phone back to the idol. A few minutes later they were on the busy streets of Tokyo. So far, so good.

“It says it’ll take us an hour to get to your grandmother’s house in this traffic,” Oikawa informed him, turning on the radio. “Wanna play 21 questions?”

“What are we, 12? I’m content with you driving in silence,” Iwaizumi responded, not bothered about making small-talk. He’d much rather rest some more.

“Iwa-chan, but it’s an _hour_.” Oikawa pouted. “Come on, 21 questions isn’t even that long. You can ask me questions first, and after I’ll ask you, okay?”

“Why are you speaking as if I said yes?” Iwaizumi grumbled, feeling as if he had already lost. “What if I can’t think of any questions? I can barely think of two, let alone 21.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa sounded thoughtful for a moment. “Google some, or ask basic questions!”

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi grumbled. “How did you meet Kuroo?”

“Ohh, that’s a good one!” Oikawa nodded, grinning to himself. “We met in middle school, actually. Went to the same class. It’s been what, 6 years now? We’re totally inseparable!” Oikawa hummed. “But _how w_ e met is another story all together!”

“Oh?” Iwaizumi sounded interested, leaning forward and paying his full attention to Oikawa.

“We were both late and arrived _simultaneously_ in our class about halfway through the roll call! When we started running from the shoe lockers who would’ve thought we were going to the same location! We both definitely made an impression on the first day. Anyway, we disrupted the roll call and the teacher asked for our surnames to see if we got called on. He called on Kuroo but didn’t get to me yet, so I was in the safe zone! But then he told us to sit down and guess what!”

“What?”

“They had one seat too few! There was a mess up with the register and someone’s name wasn’t put on there.” Oikawa chuckled. “We both had to sit on one chair and use the same desk for fifteen minutes. A lot of shoving and us falling off the chair a couple of times secured this friendship for life!”

“That’s a great way to start a friendship,” Iwaizumi snorted, Oikawa chuckling next to him. “I guess my next question is, what’s your favourite movie?”

“Ah, that’s hard, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa stopped laughing, glaring at the brunet. “I’ll have to go with Alien.”

“The American one that stars Sigourney Weaver?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t surprise me that much, considering you had a few space themed things in your room.”

“If it doesn’t surprise you _that_ much, what did you think I was going to say?”

“One of the Star Wars movies,” Iwaizumi admitted, shrugging.

“They come in right after Alien, but that one’s a classic so I’m going with that for my answer.”

“Fair enough,” Iwaizumi said, giving himself a few moments to think of another one. “Do you watch anime?” he asked, remembering all the times Hanamaki bothered him about watching Naruto with him, and then bombarded him with the stupid run and memes.

“Oh I do, sometimes! Mainly with Bokuto, since he easily gets hooked on some shows.” At Iwaizumi’s puzzled look he quickly explained, “Bokuto was in the kitchen this morning, destroying it. He was also at the gig last night.”

“Was he the guy rapping?”

“Yep.”

“Ah, I remember him.” Iwaizumi nodded. “Okay, since you watch it, what’s your favourite series?”

“Oh, Yuri on Ice!” Iwaizumi had vaguely heard of that show; it was probably one of those that Hanamaki and Matsukawa mentioned before. “It just portrays love in such a pure and respectful way. I love it!”

_Yeah, definitely heard that one from Makki,_ Iwaizumi decided, having a sense of déjà vu. “Okay then, a basic one. Do you play or have you played any sports?”

“I played volleyball from elementary school through to my first year of high school but then my singing took up too much of my time,” Oikawa said, a fond smile replacing the wide grin. “I was captain in middle school; Kuroo was one of the middle blockers!”

“Hmm, that’s cool. I play volleyball too,” Iwaizumi said and Oikawa’s eyes sparkled at that. “I guess my next question would be what position did you play?”

“Ohh, easy! Setter!”

“Not bad,” Iwaizumi said, wondering how good Oikawa was. “Do you want to have any pets? If yes, how many?”

“Usually people ask if someone wants to have any children, no?” Oikawa chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses. “I do want a dog, maybe a cat too. They don’t seem to like me much. Pudding-chan’s cat tried to rip my face off and Tetsu-chan’s cat ignores me.”

“Not all cats are evil,” Iwaizumi laughed.

“But some are!” Oikawa bristled. “I still have battle scars from when Pudding-chan’s cat attacked me! But ignoring those, could we maybe ask less questions each? I want to learn something about you, but time’s flying fast and we’re not that far off!”

“I asked about, 7? How many you say we do?” Iwaizumi cocked an eyebrow, turning in the seat to fully face Oikawa, though that position made the seatbelt dig into his ribcage.

“Let’s go with 10; also don’t hold back, Iwa-chan! You can ask more personal questions!”

“Well if you say so, how many siblings do you have?”

“I have one older sister, who is married and has a son.”

“And that’s the nephew who’s coming to see you today?”

“Yeah, I saw him yesterday but he lives far away so he likes to spend time with me.” Oikawa smiled fondly before grimacing, hands gripping the steering wheel. “But he can be a little bit of a shit sometimes.”

“Most kids tend to be little shits.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “And the fact that he’s your nephew means he gets to do a lot more.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Oikawa sighed. “Oh, but Takeru plays volleyball too!”

“He does?”

“Just started, but enough about me! I wanna know more about the brute called Iwa-chan!”

“Tough.” Iwaizumi grumbled. “You don’t get to know anything.”

Maybe winding Oikawa up wasn’t a good idea, but Iwaizumi thought he might as well get his own fun out of the situation.

“Iwa-chan, that’s not how you play this game!”

“I was _forced_ into it!” Iwaizumi argued, crossing his arms across his chest. “What is the point of knowing someone you won’t meet again?”

“You weren’t.” Oikawa stated matter-of-factly. “You asked the questions, even though you could have sat there in silence. Don’t be a spoilsport!”

“Okay, fine, fine. Just to end your whining. Ask a few and then let’s just drive in silence.”

“Yay, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out excitedly. “What position do you play in volleyball?” he asked. He kept glancing at Iwaizumi from the corner of his eyes after, as if waiting for an answer to the question.

“Wing spiker,” Iwaizumi replied, voice flat. “Next.”

“Hey, I wanna discuss that!”

“Nope, next question.”

“Aren’t you a fucking wonder,” Oikawa grumbled, rolling his eyes, which went unnoticed by Iwaizumi thanks to the cover of the shades. “I discussed my answers.”

“But you didn’t have to.” Iwaizumi smirked.

“Iwa-chan, don’t be like this. Let’s enjoy our last moments together!” Oikawa whined, fingers wrapping tightly around the steering wheel.

“You make it sound like one of us is dying,” Iwaizumi snorted, “but fine.”

For the rest of the ride, Iwaizumi indulged Oikawa by answering his questions, though the idol mostly reverted back to asking about his high school volleyball team. Iwaizumi explained to him how he was unanimously chosen as the captain, as soon as the third years retired. He spoke about how the team was good, but just not good enough; many of their first years were inexperienced, the third years busy with college applications. It was mostly on the shoulders of the second years.

Oikawa then told Iwaizumi about his time as a captain in middle school. He had absolutely loved the wonder with which the first years looked up to him with, the respect he gathered from the second years, and the way he would bump fists with the third years as they headed to graduate together and leave the team in someone else’s hands. Iwaizumi noticed Oikawa liked chatting. He was a natural; once he started a conversation he could flawlessly continue it without pause.

Oikawa was charismatic. Iwaizumi didn’t find it strange he was chosen as the captain of the middle school team and was without a doubt sure he would have made captain in high school if he had chosen to continue playing the sport. It also wasn’t surprising he was such a popular teen idol.

Oikawa asked about Iwaizumi’s siblings after a long rant about an old-classmate who would play pranks on the teachers. Iwaizumi was an only-child and he openly wondered what it was like having an older sister or a younger brother. Oikawa in turn argued he was lucky, as he didn’t have to deal with listening to his older sister’s cries after her heart was broken, though the 10 year age difference did stabilise their relationship.

Iwaizumi found himself thinking that Oikawa was an okay guy.

Far from perfect, but easy to get along with, or converse with altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a delay guys, I know last time I updated in September. I have not given up on the fanfic and am working on the newest chapter as I'm posting this one! There are some changes, as the artwork done by pussycat-scribbles won't be featured until either end of chapter 5 or chapter 6! Do check it out on her tumblr! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback is always appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read!
> 
> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated!


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